dangerous woman| phantoms book one| Wattys2016

sorry

isiah|his first letter

Dear Isiah,

I'm sorry.

Seriously, if there's anything I should start with, it's that. It's hard to explain what's going through my mind right now, they're not the most pleasant of thoughts, you know. You were- and still are- my best friend. I'm sorry for putting you through what you're going through but PLEASE DO NOT GO ANYWHERE NEAR THE POLICE. They aren't on your side. If they find out that I've been contacting you then they're going to make you a suspect.

You're innocent.

Too innocent to go to jail.

Although, I must admit that the thought of talking to each other through fences to seperate the genders does sound somewhat enticing. But you've got way too much ahead of you to give it all up, especially because of me. I'd feel horrible if you did that. Something happened between Michael and me, the night after he confronted me about...something. I just thought that you'd want to know.

'What's wrong with me?' I kept saying to myself, over and over and over again as I stared at the mirror bearing my reflection. No matter how depressed I was, I couldn't bring myself to cut. It hurt too much, just the thought of it. I had to be strong. I couldn't let him hurt me so much that hurting myself deliberately would have seemed less painful. But that night, that night, everything changed. I grabbed a razor and was about to cut my skin when I heard a small 'Stop.'

I jumped, obviously, dropping the razor. I thought I was hallucinating at first, I mean, what would Michael Anders be doing at my house? Then he started walking towards me, I thought he was going to hit me or something but nope. He wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me closer to him. A hug. After all he did to me, he thought he'd give me a hug to make it all better. I didn't hug him back. I just wanted him out of my room.

'Why are you here?' I said.

He didn't answer.

He just slipped something into my hand and sat on my bed. It was a note. I can't tell you what was on that note. At least not right now. Maybe if we see each other again in person which, tbh, seems very unlikely right now.

I looked up at him, shock filling me. I was so scared Isiah. I was really scared. And when I first started writing this letter, I thought that I'd be able to tell you about everything that happened that night but now I realise that I can't. You can figure it out though, you're smart enough, I know that. I believe in you. I hope you belive in me enough to know that I'm telling you the truth.

I have to start from the beginning. That's what I have to do right? It has to make sense.

It all started when I first moved to Sunnings. My mother hated her father, she thought that he was nothing but a gangster. My father on the other hand, couldn't agree less, his opinion on my grandfather was completley biased due to the fact that he gave my father his first job and helped him pay off a huge debt. So when my father tricked her into moving us down here, she went ballistic. She threatened to take me away and leave him. She never went through with that though, and it may seem horrible for me to say but sometimes I wish that she did. Then I'd still be happy in Dale, which is only like thirty minutes away from Sunnings anyway, and none of this (insert swear word here 😇) would have happened. At the time, I wouldn't have wanted her to move us away anyway because I loved our new place, I loved our new town, I loved our new neighbors...everything was perfect. And it always starts out perfect. That's how you know that something's about to go wrong. If somethin bad happens straight away then it happens. But when something is waiting in the corner, watching you be all happy and excited so that it knows the perfect time to strike...yep, you get the gist. I was fifteen when I first met you Isiah. Remember that day?

'And don't get any detentions-'

'Mom, I know.' I say, rolling my eyes. It was my first day of school and I was already nervous enough as it was without my mom having to bug me. 'I'll be fine, I promise.' She didn't really care. She never really did. Ever since my little brother came along, who at that time, was thirteen, it was like I'd never existed. If I came home at four instead of three due to a detention, she would never have noticed.

I got out of the car, ignoring the stares that I'd already attracted. The first day of school was always the worst but I'd hoped that this one would be different. It was. Because I met you. But then I also met him. I walked up to the school doors, ignoring the looks and the glares. I laughed to myself. Seriously, glares? People were already hating me and I'd only just stepped into the school. Nobody seemed willing enough to help me get to the office an I wasn't willing enough to ask. So I made the stupid decision to go on the hunt on my own.

That was until I bumped into a rock hard figure. And there he was. You see, that was the first time I'd ever met Michael Anders and if I could have done it all over again, I would have killed him then and there instead of at the back of the garage he works *worked* at.

'Sorry.' I muttered. It really didn't help that he was so fantastically hot. I'd never seen a shade of grey so enticing than the shades in his eyes. He was a work of art. A beautiful creation. But of course he already knew that. And that's what bugs me the most! The ugliest characters always have the most beautiful faces and it is so unfair. Remember when we used to make fun of the cheerleaders who we caught getting their teeth whitened by some junkie at the club? It's all decoration, just part of the plan to decieve and entice.

'Watch where you're going next time. Got it?'

His tone was so harsh. It was merely an accident, he wasn't hurt, was he?

'Excuse her, she's new. And has eyesight problems.'

What the hell? I thought, whipping my head around to face the idiot who had just spoken. It was you Isiah. Okay, that sounded a lot better in my head but it was you. I was about to say something when you flashed me a look- a warning look nonetheless- that told me everything I needed to know.

'Sorry.' I said again, shooting you a confused glance.

Michael smiled at me- it was so fake I thought it was genuine. Then he leaned in close, making me shiver all over, and whispered, 'Bring glasses next time. Not all girls have cooties but I'm sure you do.'

And then he walked away. Nobody had ever spoken to me that way and maybe if I'd scoffed, or insulted him, or had come up with a really good comeback, then I wouldn't have ended up stabbing him over forty times with a really sharp knife. I'm not sorry for what I did. At all, remembering that little 'incident'. His tone of voice wasn't exactly endearing either. Because it wasn't what he said. It was how he said it. With so much hatred in his voice like...like I'd end up killing him one day. Guess that guy was a psychic too.

'Hey...'

Your voice shook me out of my thoughts.

'Thanks.' I said. You nodded, giving me a small smile.

'Do you need help to get to the office?'

'Yeah.' I chuckled. 'This place is a lot bigger than I imagined. A lot scarier too.'

'Yeah... he's not really...friendly. He's not friendly at all.'

We started to walk to the office, and even though I'd already had a traumatic experience, I was really happy to have made a new friend. Thank you for that Isiah. Luckily for me, we ended up having the same schedule. Unluckily for me, my first class happened to be with Michael. I could feel his eyes burning into me as we walked into English. I took a deep breath and sat next to you, but I didn't miss the whispers floating behind my back.

'Is that the new girl?

Yours truly,

Me